


Home Alone (so spend it with me)

by noxelementalist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Advent, Boys Kissing, Fireplaces, Gen, Hot Chocolate, Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 19:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9253181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxelementalist/pseuds/noxelementalist
Summary: In which Clark has a sweet tooth, Lex needs warmer clothes, and a Christmas truce leads to excellent results.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Five_PM](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Five_PM).



> Set in season 1, after Jitters but before Rogue
> 
> All presents mentioned are real, as is the Advent service described (vaguely) in part two. Written for Clexmas 2016; gifted to Five_PM. Original prompt is actually too long to repeat in full, but the parts I drew on are as follows: Clark and Lex hugging by the fireplace; an image of Clark and Lex as kinda, together, in a Christmas-y and/or winter-y setting; something purple (with Clark and Lex); something pre-Clexy, UST-y or bromanc-y.

**December 22, 2001**

“Lot of tinsel for just one coffee shop, don’t you think?”

Clark smiled. “You should see it on Valentine’s,” he replied, turning around from where he stood in front of _The Beanery_ counter to look at Lex, who was standing behind the younger man dressed in a pair of slacks and a light-green shirt. “Pink everywhere.”

Lex chuckled softly. “I bet,” he replied. “An espresso to go,” Lex added to the barista behind the counter, handing her his credit card to scan once she had handed a hot cocoa to Clark. “Still, all this seems a bit…much.”

“I think it looks neat,” Clark said. “Tinsel, Ornaments, the Smallville painting-”

“Is that what that is?” Lex aske, gesturing towards _The Beanery_ ’s front window, where a Smallville covered in white snow had been painted, the words “Happy Holidays from the Beanery” tagged above it with care. “I thought it was Whoville. Lot more snow there than here.”

“Nothing wrong with being optimistic.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I mean, you’re being optimistic, walking around without a coat on and thinking you won’t get sick.”

“I never get sick. You know that.”

“Still, that shirt had better be warmer than it looks.”

“I’ll have you know that this shirt is the latest fashion in Metropolis.”

“So you’re freezing.”

“No, just…pleasantly chilled. Like a fine bottle of wine.”

“Right,” Clark drawled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Anyway, Christmas is always a good time on the farm.”

“I thought the farm would slow down around now.”

“The field work does,” Clark said after taking a gulp of his cocoa, the drink leaving a chocolatey aftertaste in his mouth. “I mean, there’s still barn work, but that just makes it even better. We go all out for Christmas,” Clark explained, seeing the look on Lex’s face. “I’m talking full blown Christmas-tree, snacks and eggnog for Santa-”

“-you’re fourteen and you still believe in-”

“-for _Santa_ ,” Clark repeated firmly, “and presents, Sunday Christmas service, even caroling if the weather’s alright.”

“Sounds busy,” Lex said, grabbing his espresso.

“It’s called fun Lex,” Clark replied, gently nudging him. “You remember fun, right?”

“Vaguely,” Lex laughed. “But I’m not exactly big on Christmas spirit.”

“What do you mean?” Clark asked, frowning. “Isn’t Lionel coming to town-?”

“No, not after he came down for the Earl Jenkins thing.”

“Oh.”

“Mind you,” Lex said, taking a sip of his espresso as he began to lean back against the counter, “it’s not a big deal. I’ll probably just spend the day holed up at the manor. Probably have more fun that way too, to be honest.”

“You’re spending Christmas _alone_?”

“Clark, please, I’m not the Grinch,” Lex said, mistaking the look on Clark’s face. “I’m not going to make the manor staff work for me on Christmas.”

“But-that’s- you’re really going to be by yourself up there?”

Lex glanced across the counter at Clark. “I’ll be by myself, but that’s okay,” Lex said carefully. “After all, it’s not like I haven’t done Christmas alone before.”

“Lex-”

“You know I’d love to stay and chat,” Lex said, slowly pushing away from the counter, “but I’ve got a ton of paperwork to sign off on before the holidays really set in, and I bet you have presents shopping to do.”

“Don’t remind me,” Clark groaned. “I just got Mom’s before getting in here, and that took, like, three _days_ to figure out.”

“Are your folks that hard to shop for?”

“Let’s just say that they are bigger fans of giving presents than getting them,” Clark said.

“The best parents always are,” Lex replied. “See you later.”

“See you,” Clark called after him, watching him walk out of the festively decorated shop and into the dreariness that was a blustery, snowless, Smallville winter.

“You done with your cocoa?”

“Hmm? Clark said, starting at the barista’s question. “No, I’m still working on it. Thanks though.”

“Anytime,” she said. “You know, it’s kinda a pity he’s spending Christmas alone- hey, maybe you should ask him over and spread some of that famous Kent holiday spirit,” she continued as Clark found himself chocking on a swallow of cocoa that had gone down the wrong way. “I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll think about it,” Clark stammered.

 

**December 23, 2001**

Lex fidgeted where he stood at the back of Smallville United Methodist Church, watching for a moment as the pastor carefully lit a small purple candle, Lex’s hand absently tugging on the cuff of his shirt.

There was, in fact, a lot of purple inside the Church. Besides the candle the pastor was lighting, there were also three additional purple candles in the wreath resting on the Church’s altar, an altar that had been covered with purple cloth. The strong match of the colors with his pale violet shirt— chosen mostly on a whim for a less striking color — had almost seemed too purposeful, and for a brief moment Lex had considered leaving. But then a woman who Lex assumed was the church’s music director had sat down and begun playing the soft melody of _In the Bleak Midwinter_ , and Lex found himself forced to stay where he was or risk starting a scene.

 _At least this’s a good spot,_ Lex thought as he read aloud the passages of the Book of Matthew the church program had instructed the congregation to say at that point in the service. _They can’t stare at me when I’m sitting behind them._

“Please be seated,” the pastor said after a moment. “As I know you all know, we’re just a couple of days away from Christmas, and here we are today with Matthew’s take. You’ll notice it’s not the angels and shepherds version of Christmas, with beautiful songs from heaven. No, Matthew’s version has something the others don’t: brevity.”

Lex laughed along with the rest of the parishioners, and began to look again around the room, tuning out the pastor as she continued to deliver the sermon. The congregation wasn’t particularly huge. _And most of them are farmers_ , Lex reflected to himself as he looked at men with weather-worn faces sitting next to their wives and children, all dressed in suits and fine clothes that, if faded, were still good enough to be Sunday Church clothes. _Wonder where the rich people are._

Not that Lex would’ve wanted to join them. The service may not have been the kind of socialite service that Lex could remember attending with his father all his life in Metropolis— formal affairs filled with networking and work under the cover of “religious observance”— Lex found himself enjoying not having to be on his guard and watching the people of Smallville without needing to answer for it, even if those people hadn’t really seemed to warm to Lex much in the six months that he had been there.

 _Except for Clark and Martha,_ Lex thought, quickly spotting the pair sitting by Clark’s father a few rows up from him. _They’ve been…very accepting._

“So an angel shows up,” the pastor was saying. “Until this point, an angel showing up is rarely a good thing. If you can believe a recently aired History Channel miniseries, angels are actually ninja warriors for God.”

“And about six inches taller than your average Kansan male,” Lex mumbled under his breath as he continued looking at Clark, who (if the slight bouncing in his seat was any indicator) was starting to get antsy from all the sitting.

Suddenly Lex heard a cough from ahead of him, the harsh sound prompting Lex to look away from the younger man before someone could see where he had been staring. _Like it’s probably not obvious_ , Lex thought to himself.

The truth of the matter was Clark’s determined fondness for him was…awkwardly flattering for Lex. Flattering in that Lex _liked_ it, liked having someone who wanted him around for him and not his money or name. Someone who complained about homework instead of shareholder reports, who worried about Lex being alone for Christmas instead of expecting it, who would (and had) risked their life for Lex without demanding something in return. Flattering because this particular someone was very well-made, with firm arms, a broad chest, and a smooth, clumsily graceful body that had been made not from a mandatory two hours per day at the gym but from a life of farmwork— a body which found nothing wrong about the idea of casually brushing fingers against Lex’s hand as he walked by, or with sprawling out on Lex’s study couch while watching Lex work through paperwork.

And awkward because Lex knew that if that someone, if _Clark,_ had been even two years older, Lex wouldn’t have even hesitated one second, would’ve said “the hell with Jonathan Kent” and thrust Clark down greedily against the pool table the younger Kent so often bent over in unfairly tight jeans and—

“If you’ve had any interaction with families who’ve adopted, you know that it can be hard,” the pastor’s voice rang out, the words offering Lex a welcome distraction before he began entertaining some decidedly not church-appropriate thoughts. “Specialists in adoption will even tell you that it’s important the family cloister themselves away for a time to speed up the bonding process. I wonder what that process was like between Joseph and his new child. Initially, it might have been hard for him to call this a blessing, and undoubtedly this new little family would have been a source of gossip in the community. But Joseph is called to ‘man up’ here, for lack of a better phrase, and take on the responsibility of living for a greater purpose.”

 _That’s…pointed, seeing as how Clark and I are probably the only adopted kids in this town,_ Lex thought as the pastor continued. _Wonder how Jonathan Kent feels about that._

***

 

“Lex, is that you?”

“Mrs. Kent,” Lex replied, watching as she and Clark walked across the church’s front lawn towards him, Jonathan Kent stopping at the door to speak with the pastor.

“See I told you it was him,” Clark said triumphantly. “No one else wears shirts like that.”

“Clark!”

“It’s fine Mrs. Kent,” Lex said. “I know I don’t strike people as the church going type, but the pastor wrote me a letter inviting me, and you can’t say no to that, can you?”

“I suppose not,” Martha said.

“Did you enjoy it?” Clark asked.

“It was alright,” Lex said. “Though the adoption focus felt a bit pointed.”

“Pastor Grace has a habit of doing that,” Jonathan Kent said as he walked over to join them. “Then again, it is the Fourth Sunday of Advent.”

“I’m just glad it was short this year,” Clark said. “Those pews are cold.”

“Like you won’t be warming up with cocoa later,” Martha teased her son.

“What’s wrong with a little cocoa?”

“Nothing, unless you’ve had too much,” Jonathan said. “Wouldn’t you agree Lex?”

“Too much of anything is bad, but I’m sure Clark’s watching himself,” Lex said with a shrug. “Even if the last time I saw him he was drinking some.”

“It was cold out,” Clark protested.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“And what are you doing for Christmas?” Jonathan asked.

“Lex is spending it by himself,” Clark told his father.

“What? Lex, no,” Martha said. “You know, you should come spend it with us.”

“It’s not that bad,” Lex said reassuringly.

“I know it’s that great either.”

“Give in Lex,” Clark said. “Mom’s even more stubborn than I am.”

“I have to be to deal with the both of you,” Martha muttered.

“I…suppose I can if it’s not too much trouble,’ Lex said slowly.

“Don’t worry Lex” Jonathan said. “Even I can follow a Christmas Truce.”

“Alright,” Lex said. “Alright, I will.”

“Good,” Martha said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to help Pastor Grace put the Advent Wreath back.”

“Hey, Mom, can we get a photo first?” Clark asked.

“A photo of what, the wreath? Jonathan asked.

“No of us,” Clark said. “We’re going to need proof that you and Lex actually agreed on something, not to mention his shirt actually matches the wreath.”

“What is it with you and my shirts?” Lex asked.

“They are kinda bright and thin,” Jonathan said, already turning to follow his son and wife back in the church. “Makes them eye-catching.”

“I like a hint of color,” Lex said defensively as he followed the Kents back into the. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Not at all,” Jonathan replied as they reached the altar. “Just rare around here besides Clark’s love of all things primary colored.”

“What is this, Pick-on-Clark day?” Clark asked.

“No, that’ll be when your report card comes home.”

“Dad!”

“Alright everyone, stay right here and let me get Pastor Grace to take our photo using the church camera,” Martha said before hurrying back towards the door where the pastor stood.

“This isn’t going on some sort of Christmas card thing, is it?” Lex asked.

“Don’t worry, you look great,” Clark said.

“That’s not a no.”

“Mr. Luthor, thank you for coming,” Pastor Grace interrupted.

“It was my pleasure, I assure you,” Lex replied to her.

“I understand that you and the Kents want to take a picture together?”

“Yes,” Martha said, going to stand beside her husband. “It was Clark’s idea.”

“And it’s one I’m happy to oblige,” Pastor Grace said, reaching behind her lectern to grab a camera. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Here, Lex, you and Clark stand in front of us,” Martha said. “That way we can get all four of us and the wreath in the photo.”

“Clark, don’t block your mother,” Jonathan said, pulling Clark in front of him.

“Is everyone ready?” The Pastor asked once everyone had settled into place, Lex standing in front of Martha and to Clark’s right.

“Think so Pastor,” Jonathan said.

“Alright then,” she replied. “On three. One-”

\- Lex felt Clark’s hand brush against his, and absently hooked a finger around it-

“-Two -”

\- _This is so much purple for one photo_ , Lex thought-

“-And three!” the pastor said as she took the photo.

 

**December 24, 2001: Christmas Eve**

Clark stared at the shelves in _Fordman’s_ with a sense of despair. “What was I thinking?” he muttered to himself.

 _You were thinking about how much you wanted Lex for Christmas,_ said a voice that sounded awfully like Chloe’s inside Clark’s head, the thought making Clark wince.

“Everything okay Kent?” a voice said next to Clark.

“Yeah, Whitney,” Clark said quickly. “Just doing some last minute shopping.”

“You, last minute shopping? Must be someone special.”

“I, ah-”

“Aw, does Clark Kent have a crush on someone?”

“No! No, it’s-”

Whitney laughed. “Don’t worry, Clark,” he said, clapping him on the back, “I won’t ask who it is, as long as it’s not Lana. It’s not, right?”

“What, no!” Clark stuttered.

Whitney nodded. “This someone,” he said, “You invited her over for Christmas?”

“Basically,” Clark admitted, not bothering to correct Whitney about who exactly the “her” was.

“Before you got a present.”

“I…wasn’t thinking about presents at the time.”

“I bet,” Whitney teased, glancing over the shelves. “Bet you were thinking about how great she is, and how amazing it would be if she spent Christmas over at yours?”

“Not really, I—”

“Or maybe you were thinking you could be the present instead?” Whitney asked.

“I was just thinking about how it be nice to see her, that’s all,” Clark said flushing.

Whitney laughed. “Alright then, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “But if it helps any, I’d go for something soft and cuddly over an ornament.”

“Soft and cuddly?”

“Soft and cuddly. That way she can have it out all year,” Whitney said. “Good luck.”

“Um, thanks?” Clark called after Whitney as he walked away. “I think?”

Clark looked back at the presents on the shelves. _Whitney’s right_ , he thought as he glanced over the ornaments. _I can’t get Lex any of these, and I don’t want to get him the kind of stuff I got for Mom and Dad ‘cause that’d be weird. But I can’t…I mean, Lex isn’t…_

“Why does everyone I know have to be hard to shop for?” Clark grumbled quietly.

The truth was that Clark had no idea what Lex thought he was to him, and that made picking a present hard. Clark knew what _Smallville_ seemed to think Lex was: the strange guy from Metropolis with crazy expensive clothes that lived in the stone mansion way out in the hills, with a mom nobody talked about and a dad that was a complete dick. A college grad that had a party rap sheet a mile long, who didn’t like the plant he was in charge of even if he’d fight to keep it open. A twenty-something that spent too much time around that young Clark Kent, probably because only someone with the Kent levels of patience could stand the guy.

Clark also knew what he wanted to Lex to be, and it was a lot more than just a friend. Like, a _lot_ more. Like, wanted Lex to be something that could maybe end with Lex wearing nothing but one of Clark’s plaid shirts, tucked flannelly and warm next to Clark on the couch in the loft while Clark tried to leave marks on his neck that had nothing to do with bullets or meteor-mutant attacks, instead of having to watch Lex pass by in thin shirts that matched the wildflowers that would spring up every year on the farm or the colors of Clark’s eyes.

 _But it’s not like he wants me back like that,_ Clark thought as he gave up on the Christmas shelves and began walking towards the back corner of the store where the stuffed animals were. _He probably thinks I’m just some kid who saves his life a lot._

“Not to mention Dad’d probably give us both some crazy version of a shovel talk if I gave him a hickey,” Clark muttered to himself. He looked over the display of animals, and was just about to give up on getting Lex a present when his eyes caught something shoved into the corner of one of the shelves.

“Are thos-yes, yes!” Clark said. “These’ll be perfect.”

 

**December 25, 2001: Christmas Day**

_Welp, now or never._ With a deep breath Lex knocked quietly on the front door, and hoped that he hadn’t showed up too early. At first there was no answer, but then he heard footsteps coming towards the door, followed by the sound of the door slowly unlatching. “Lex, is that you?” a voice he recognized as belonging to Martha Kent’s said.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “I wasn’t sure what time you wanted me to come over, but-”

“No, please, come in,” Martha said quietly, opening the door to reveal herself dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark, red sweater with a small Christmas tree brooch pinned comfortably in the corner. “It would be nice to have someone else up before noon in this house on Christmas.”

“Everybody sleeps in, huh?” Lex asked as he stepped into the house, carefully shuffling off his coat to hang it on a peg by the front door.

“Ever since Clark turned ten and realized his presents weren’t gonna disappear if he didn’t wake up at the crack of dawn,” she replied. “Oh,” Martha added, gesturing towards a box wrapped in green and red wrapping paper Lex held tucked under his arm, “is that for—”

“It’s for Clark, though I’m pretty sure he’ll be open to sharing it with everyone. I had wanted to get something for you and Jonathan,” Lex continued, “but—”

“You know Jonathan wouldn’t have accepted it,” Martha finished with a yawn. “It’s alright. You being here is present enough, really.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t,” Martha said, taking the present from Lex. “Here, let’s put this under the tree.”

“Now that’s a tree,” Lex said as he followed her into the family room, in the center of which stood a tall, thick pine tree bedecked with ornaments and tinsel. Although it wasn’t the only decoration in the room— there were three stockings hanging over the fireplace, carefully, and a few toy snowmen and carved reindeer sat scattered in the corners of the room— the tree was definitely the centerpiece, and commanded the attention such a centerpiece deserved.

“Jonathan cuts one down from the woods on the edge of our property every year,” Martha told him, carefully resting the present Lex brought under the edge of the tree. “I told him we shouldn’t risk trees like that and just buy a plastic one, but all that did was make him keep enough roots attached that we can replant them later.”

“That Kent stubbornness,” Lex said.

“Exactly,” Martha laughed.

“Is there anything I can do? No please,” he said hurriedly, seeing the look on Martha’s face, “I can’t just sit around and do nothing for hours.”

Martha sighed. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “Alright then, follow me.”

 

***

 

“Lex? Lex, is that- yaw- you?”

“Afternoon Clark,” Lex said, turning around from the kitchen sink where Lex had been drying a dish with a dishcloth, finding the younger Kent standing at the foot of the stairs in a thin blue t-shirt and plaid pajamas. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“I’m- I’m working on it anyway,” Clark said, swallowing a yawn and stretching an arm, the tips of his fingers barely grazing the ceiling. “Do we have anything for breakfast left?”

“Martha left you a plate of biscuits in the fridge,” Lex told him, watching Clark as he shuffled across the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door, bending over to grab the plate.

 _Unfair,_ Lex thought as he looked at Clark, his hands tugging more harshly across the plate, the cloth making soft scraping noises as it dragged across the surface. _That-that’s just unfair._

“What?”

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you’re alright,” Clark said, putting down a plate of biscuits and a milk bottle on the table.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Lex said, shaking his head briefly. “I was just starring off into space for a bit.”

“You sure?” Clark asked. “‘Cause you were staring at my pajamas like they needed to be punished.”

 _“_ Pretty sure the plaid would be reason enough for that.” _And the part where I want to tear them off with my bare hands._

“I don’t get what is with you and the plaid,” Clark said, swigging milk from the bottle.

 _Jesus._ “Somehow I don’t think Martha would be okay with you drinking that straight-”

“-from the bottle like I was raised on a farm?” Clark asked after swallowing, his lips leaving a ring of milk film on the edge of the bottle as he lifted them from the glass. “Don’t worry, I always wipe it afterward, you know, keep it clean and all.”

“Glad to know you’re clean,” Lex said, carefully resting the dry dish on the counter.

“Thought you’d appreciate that, you being such a clean bear and all,” Clark said, the remark causing Lex to cough into his wrist. “So,” Clark added after a moment, “what did you and Mom do?”

“We got the popcorn strings hung on the tree,”

“- Is there-”

“- And no, there’s none of that left-”

“- Aw-”

“- And then I helped her get things started for lunch and brought some firewood in, which is right about the time your dad came downstairs.”

“That must’ve been awkward,” Clark said.

Lex laughed. “He was a little surprised at first,” he admitted, “but I think he got over it fast enough. He and Martha started the fire in the fireplace going, and they’re out exchanging presents right now.”

“Where?” Clark asked, leaning over to look through the doorway into the family room.

“They took their gifts outside,” Lex said.

“Outside?”

“Towards the barn. I think they wanted some privacy.”

“Priva-oh,” Clark said, squeezing his eyes shut. “ _Oh._ Oh my eyes,” Clark said.

“It’s nice to know that they’re still very much in love,” Lex teased.

“Please stop.”

“No, really, not many couples last-”

“It’s _Christmas,_ come on!” Clark pled.

“Alright, alright,” Lex said. “By the way, your presents are still under the tree, when you’re ready for them.”

“And yours too right?”

Lex blinked. “I had a present?”

Clark smiled. “Here, I’ll get it,” he said, leaving his plate on the kitchen table.

Lex followed Clark over to the tree, where the younger Kent had picked up a small package that looked wrapped in-

“Clark, is that _flannel_?”

“And the wrapping’s part of the present,” Clark said with a smile, handing it to Lex before sprawling out onto the living room couch. “Go on, open it.”

“You’ve already given me a, ah, purple and green flannel scarf Clark,” Lex said as he slowly unwrapped the package. “It’s kinda hard to top that, I- what.”

Clark laughed. “Your face!” he cackled as Lex stared at his present.

“Clark? Clark, are these penguins? _Green flannel penguins_?”

“Yes.”

“And are two of them wearing _holiday bathrobes?”_

“Yes they are.”

“And what’s this third- okay, at least _this_ one’s in a proper penguin suit, but what’s he-”

“Those are flannel coffee cozies,” Clark explained, watching as Lex slowly poked at the package in the penguin’s arms. “You can wrap them around your coffee to keep them warm!”

“I…I…”

“I figured it was something you wouldn’t have gotten anywhere else.”

“You are absolutely right about that.”

“Good,” Clark said. “Now anytime you wear it, or look at the penguins, or use one of those cozies, you’ll remember me.”

“Aw, Clark.”

“I mean-”

“No, you’re absolutely right,” Lex said, wrapping the scarf around his neck (and feeling very thankful that he’d chosen to wear a dark brown sweater with his slacks so that the scarf wouldn’t clash too badly. “I’ll treasure it as a gift from you forever.”

Clark flushed. “Where’s your gift?” he asked.

Lex smiled. “Right there,” he said, pointing down to where Clark’s foot had begun to poke at the present’s Christmas-colored wrapping paper.

“Sweet,” Clark said, picking up the package and giving it a small shake, the motion causing a small clinking sound to echo from it. “That doesn’t _sound_ like clothing.”

“It’s not clothing,” Lex reassured him, watching as Clark tore open the package.

“You…got me three pink milk pails?” Clark asked confused.

“Hot Cocoa pails,” Lex corrected. “ _Gourmet_ hot cocoa pails, from a small farm up in Vermont. I figured your sweet tooth would be happy with that.”

“Lex, this is-”

“-And I’ll have you know even the great Jonathan Kent said there’s no need to return that,” Lex said quickly as Clark got up from the couch and walked towards him, leaving the cocoa pails sitting on the couch.

“Lex, this is perfect,” Clark said, wrapping Lex tightly in a hug. “Thank you.”

“It-it’s nothing,” Lex murmured as he hugged Clark back.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well, compared to part two of the present it-”

“There’s a part two?!” Clark asked, pulling back.

“Yes,” Lex said. “I wanted to ask you to come-”

“No, no,” Clark interrupted. “First, let’s make some of that cocoa and have it by the fireplace, then ask me. Otherwise Mom’s gonna confiscate it all before we know it.”

“Martha may have said a few words about sugar highs and double chocolate cookies.”

Clark narrowed his eyes. “She’s not cutting me off from chocolate Lex,” he said seriously, causing the older man to laugh. “Them’s fighting words.”

“Right then,” Lex said. “Let’s make some cocoa.”

Lex took a step back into the kitchen, hearing more than seeing Clark grab one of the pails and come after him, when- “Um.”

“Hmm?” Lex asked, turning from where he stood in the doorway between the family room and the kitchen to look at Clark.

“It’s just. There’s mistletoe,” Clark stammered, pointing up.

Lex glanced up and, yes, sure enough, a small green spring of mistletoe, complete with white berries hung carefully tied to the doorframe. “Huh.” Lex said.

“…Should we?” Clark asked. “Kiss, I mean.”

Lex blinked at Clark. “It…would be bad luck not to?”

Clark smiled and then, before Lex could say another word, leaned over and kissed him, a soft, teasing kiss that probably lasted only for a few seconds, but which felt like a lifetime.

“Thank you,” Lex whispered, watching as Clark reached up and picked a berry off.

“Your turn,” Clark mumbled back.

“Mine?”

Clark blushed. “That on was for the one we missed on our way out,” Clark said. “Now we need to do one for the way in. Be bad luck to miss a kiss.”

Lex looked thoughtfully at Clark. Thought about what the odds were that the younger man really wanted Lex to kiss him, the odds that Lex should even be _looking_ at him- odds he weighed against the odds that Martha and Jonathan would come in, shoot him, and scatter Lex’s body over the backfields with a mechanical reaper.

“Lex?” Clark asked, sounding unsure.

 _To hell with it._ “Clark,” Lex said. “Put the pail down.”

“Okay,” Clark said, slowly putting it down, and by the time he had bent up again Lex had pulled the teenager into a full-bodied kiss, arms wrapping around Clark’s frame as if they’d be the only time they’d get to touch him, barely noticing when Clark’s arms wrapped back around and pulled Lex tightly closer.

The pair stood like that for some time.

 

***

 

[By the time Martha and Jonathan came back in from the barn— Martha wearing a new brooch, with the only sign of anything amiss being a stray piece of straw that stuck out from Jonathan’s hair under the brim of the woolen skull cap Martha had gifted him with— Clark and Lex were curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, each holding a cup of hot chocolate in his hand, Lex still wearing the scarf Clark had given him.

And if nobody saw the sips they stole from each other’s cups, or if Martha and Jonathan conveniently missed Clark kissing Lex when he asked Cark to come with him to a gala at the Luthor Hall Collection of the Metropolis Museum because Martha had needed help making double chocolate peppermint cookies, well, that was alright. It was Christmas after all.]


End file.
